Not Just Yet
by SpideychelleCarwheelerTrash
Summary: When MJ falls asleep at Peter's house after studying, Peter has to figure out how to get her to put school aside and relax.


It's been weeks since MJ slept, really slept. The ACTs are in less than a week, and she's been studying nonstop for it with both Peter and Ned in whatever time they can manage to spare. On top of that, the workload of her AP classes is increasing steadily, and nothing about it is slow. It's an uphill climb, and Peter's been watching MJ scale the steep incline without a word of complaint.

He wouldn't really have ever expected anything different of her, really. Michelle Jones accepts consequences with a furrowed brow and a sarcastic comment and little else, and that's how it's always been.

Still, as his eyes trace her face now, he can't help but see the effects of their hectic weeks. It's been harder on her than anyone, since she has both the hardest workload and the most responsibility for the coming decathlon trip. She doesn't let it show while she's with them, but right now, she's a million miles away seizing a few well-deserved moments of rest.

Maybe it's creepy, but for some reason Peter can't look away from the sight of MJ curled up on his bed like some sort of cat clad in an old Midtown hoodie. It's his hoodie, he realizes, and a little grin slides onto his lips as he watches her chest rise and fall with deep breaths. They've been tentatively seeing one another for a few weeks, sure, but it hasn't seemed to change much- until these moments come, and Peter feels his heart swell with something he can't quite identify.

Messy curls are spilling out of a ponytail onto his Star-Wars coverlet, and Peter's gaze traces the curve of her cheek where a few kinky twists of hair are creating a sort of makeshift curtain. Her cheek is smushed against the page of her opened AP Chem textbook, and full lips are slightly parted to let out sleepy little puffs of air. There is an open planner by one hand, and a pen that has slipped from her loose grasp. Sheets of paper- study guides, visual aides, the works- are everywhere, creating a sort of nest. It's absolute chaos, and somehow she still manages to look at peace, if only in her sleep.

Peter wouldn't wake her for the world.

Unfortunately, the world has proved more than once that it holds little more than loathing for Peter, and this is one of those times. The deep, peaceful breaths suddenly turn to a sharp gasp, and he watches as her whole body tenses. It is only a second later that her eyes snap open, and then MJ let outs an exhale in a puff of air as she pulls herself to a sitting position.

For a moment, she only blinks at the wall opposite his bed, but then bleary brown eyes turn to Peter. "Hmnuh?" she manages through exhausted lips, clearly disoriented. What's left of her ponytail is an absolute mess, something that makes it look like she was caught in the middle of trying to tease her hair. The eyes that are normally so sharp are slightly puffy and glazed over from sleep, and her nose is wrinkled. Peter realizes that this is the first time he's ever really seen her wake up.

"You fell asleep," Peter answers in reply to her incoherent question, gesturing to the books and materials surrounding her. He can't keep a playful grin from his face as he continues, "I just really couldn't seem to get myself to cross the room to wake you up, you know? You're just too cute when you're sleeping."

Normally, Peter would never be that forward, but he can't help it. In a strange reversal of roles, MJ is the one off-guard now. And it's not only giving him a strange burst of confidence, it's making it particularly hard to draw breath.

MJ stares at him for a moment, blinking. Peter could swear he can see a rosy undertone crawling up her neck and ears, but her face somehow becomes even more tired than it was before as her eyes travel to a mirror behind him.

"Don't make fun of me, Parker," she mutters, and he watches as her eyes frantically lock on his clock. "Oh, shit... Why didn't you wake me?"

Peter is shocked to see her hands travel to her hair, anxiously raking through her curls and pulling out what is left of her ponytail. MJ doesn't even notice the ponytail holder fall to the floor as she whirls around, desperately looking over the mess of homework on the bed. MJ begins to gather up the papers in a frenzy, cramming them into an expanding file of grey plastic that's already full to bursting.

"I'm never gonna finish all of this- damn it! I can't do the Chem on the subway, otherwise the atomic models will look messy when I turn it in, and-"

"MJ," Peter interrupts quickly, eyes wide and concerned. He's seen her stressed, sure, but she always keeps it from spilling over. This is more rattled than he's ever seen her, and guilt is creeping in on him as he realizes she's in no mood to be joked around with right now. At the sound of her name, the slightly taller girl turns to face Peter with eyes that are simmering with annoyance and frustration. Beneath all that, though Peter can see the exhaustion, the fear of failure that lurks in every shadow of her chocolate eyes.

"What do you want, Peter?" Her voice is almost a whisper, exhausted. As quickly as that sudden surge of energy had come, Peter can tell it has also deserted her. "I really don't need another joke right now-"

"I wasn't joking."

The words are quiet, but they are completely serious, and Peter watches as her lips fall open slightly in surprise. She is speechless, for one of the only times Peter can ever remember. The rosy hue is returning, and her brown eyes are pools of surprise as they lock on his.

He takes a step closer to her, and one of his hands travels to her waist. He doesn't know why he hooks his arm around her torso, keeping sure not to travel too high or too low as he tugs her slightly closer. Her chest is inches from him as she peers down at him, surprise now replaced with uncertainty and skepticism.

"You looked like you needed the sleep, MJ," Peter murmurs seriously, peering up at her. He is not the least bit bothered by their height difference- it means he has to work a little harder to look at her when they're this close, so she knows that he means it. "You're exhausted. I'm sorry I didn't wake you up, but you know you're welcome to stay here. I'll take the couch, and you can have the bed, okay? You can wear some of my clothes to school tomorrow, because there's no way you're going on the subway this late and this tired."

For a moment, MJ's eyes narrow, and she doesn't say anything. Peter is half-convinced she's about to snap at him. But then, she says the unthinkable.

"Okay."

The room is silent for a moment, and a little smile spreads across Peter's lips as her reply sinks in. Her hands are traveling now, too, creeping up behind his back to pull her slightly closer. Her touch is warm, and now his hoodie smells like her lemon shampoo, and Peter knows that he's grinning like an idiot.

Because she said yes.

"Okay," he repeats softly, beaming still. MJ's cheeks flush again, but she rolls her eyes. She looks a bit more like MJ now.

"You're such a dork," she mutters, but Peter can see a little gleam in her eyes that wasn't there before. She's relieved as he is by their arrangement, and that just makes Peter feel even warmer.

"I dunno," he counters. "Would a dork do this?"

MJ tilts her head down, brow furrowed slightly in curiosity. Before she can do anything, however, Peter takes advantage of the fact that she's closer to him and straightens up, standing on tiptoe to brush his lips against her forehead.

It's light, gentle, barely there. But it's not something they can erase or ignore, and it's the most intimate moment they have shared. MJ's whole body is tense as his lips make contact with her skin, and Peter is not sure if it is intentional, but MJ tugs him slightly closer to her. When his lips leave her skin, there is a moment of silence, and Peter's heart is near to hammering out of his chest as he looks up at her. The room is dim except for his desk lamp, and in the light he cannot begin to dream of untangling the complicated tangle of emotions in her irises.

And then, she whispers, "I don't know... You'll have to try again."

Peter doesn't get it for a moment, and he can't even get a good breath since she seems to knock the air from his lungs. "Wh-what?"

MJ is amused now, and a little smirk plays with her lips as she leans down slightly, her lips brushing his ear as she breathes, "I don't know if it's something that a dork would do. You're going to have to do it again... Just so I can make up my mind."

Peter's heart completely bottoms out when he finally understands, and he knows his cheeks are beet red as she pulls away, arching an eyebrow. She doesn't need to say anything- that one eyebrow poses the question for her.

Well?

Peter doesn't need to be told again. One hand rises to tangle in her hair as he pulls her closer with the other. It's a bit unsure, since Peter hasn't ever done this before. But it's okay, because he knows she hasn't, either. They're not ready for anything drastic or intense yet, and that's alright. Peter already feels like there's enough warmth in the air to melt him entirely.

MJ leans down slightly, and that's all Peter needs. The little kisses land like butterflies on her skin- her cheeks, causing her to press her fingers further into his back. He moves to her nose quickly, just one quick peck that causes her to exhale in laughter, tipping her head back.

Peter moves to her neck, which is now bared to him, and MJ immediately seems to melt into him as he brushes her soft skin with his lips. He's found her weak spot, he realizes, letting out a playful hum as he continues. The kisses are light at first, and one of her hands travels up to hook around his neck. Peter drinks in the satisfaction at having found one of her little weaknesses, one of the ways he can show her what he feels. The kisses deepen, just slightly, as they trail up to her jawline. MJ lets out a little gasp, and he can tell she's as breathless as he is.

She feels the same way, and that's all he needs.

It's warm, and it's a tangle of limbs, and it's new. Maybe it's juvenile, but Peter isn't worried. They have time, after all... Time to explore, time to play, time to press more butterfly kisses to skin that tastes like honey in the quiet of a little bedroom in Queens.


End file.
